///FOOD FOR THE HOMELESS
I had ate at Panbury's Double Crust Pies for lunch and it was delicious. The crust was super flaky, creating that amazing texture of lightly crisping bread akin to a nice croissant. The steak inside was juicy and the mash potatoes and gravy wasn't too heavily seasoned which is pretty rare considering American's affinity for too salty or too savory.
But that's not the point of why I am blogging (on an afternoon for the first time) here. The reason is my continuous struggle with helping the needy. Do I do it because it's part of me, or because I want to impress others. It's strange and I always wonder whether it does more good to tell others about the kind actions I do compared to going the way of silent kindness. What's the best way to interact with the homeless? Too many times I feel like I'm getting sold bullshit stories about their lives, but who am I to judge? They've been through much more harsh times than I have.
I left Sweet Auburn Market after my lunch and headed towards my car on a nice sunny and breezy day to have a black lady standing behind a pillar ask me, "Excuse me, you have any change to spare for some food?" At first I just glanced and just moved on. A pang of regret course through my mind causing a tangible shame as I walked without a word to the person as towards my car. I wondered, "Do I go back and give her money? Maybe I could go inside and get her some food." I ended up hopping into my car and planned on just moving on, hoping a car in the lot would block my face hung low from her as I drove by. A car didn't block my view but a middle-aged white couple had ended up giving her something. Not sure what it was but the homeless lady was given, or gave, a hug to the white lady. Their love was genuine. You could just see it from the smiles. I felt terrible as I slowly rolled up to the gate. I wanted to help now. I didn't want the black lady to think that Asians are so apathetic. I hoped for a parking spot and found one. Walked back inside and grabbed some food to-go to hand to the lady. Didn't see her. Searched to no avail. She was gone. Thinking back on it, she probably used the money she got from white lady to buy food... I felt terrible. A conjunction of having spent the money to buy the food I could no longer gain appreciation from and for having given a bad impression from myself to black lady.
Sulked back into my car and punched my verified ticket to head to work. "Why couldn't I just acknowledge her as soon as she saw? Why did I just glance without a word and continue towards my car across the lot? Is it because I'm not an instinctively kind person? Is it because I'm actually only kind when I choose to be?" I always find myself (attempting to) calculate the ratio of good vibes and kindness vs. the monetary cost and amount of time I would have to sink into it. Factors including who would see me doing the act and how much the person might appreciate it. I probably just think too much about all my actions. Can't read-and-react as much as I do. I need to listen to my first instinct and actualize it. Should be another goal of mine.
Anyway, I parked my car at the mechanic's shop next to the restaurant and trekked towards the building. Steak meat pie and Orange Fanta in hand, I wondered what to do with it. I could give to to my coworkers, I could save it for later, or... OR I could give it to one of the homeless in the park across the street. There are always a few there just sitting on the steps or sleeping in the grass. I saw one of them on the drive to work on some steps facing the road. Decided towards the park. Saw a bigger black man sitting on the main stairs in a red jacket. He wasn't homeless. Seemed decently clean and had bags strewn about in front of him. A hallmark of the homeless.
Walked down to the guy I had seen earlier and gave him a tap on the shoulder. He was eating from a bag of chips in what I assume was just a snack but either way, his only form of nutrition/sustenance. His face looked younger than mine by a couple years. Raggedly clothes and gloves with holes in it. Patchwork beanie and old shoes. Probably the first time in weeks he's been able to enjoy the day without freezing temperatures. I hoped he at least slept in a shelter. He had a kind face but seemed defeated and had long lost the ability to produce a smile. "Can I give you some food?" "Yeah, sure," he said in a low voice. Dropped the box beside him. "Alright, so it's a chicken pot pie, but with STEAK! Here's a Fanta for you too. I was gonna give to to some other lady be she disappeared." "Thanks, man." "Yeah, no problem man." Gave him a pat on his shoulder and for a split second I turned to walk back to work. Then a thought popped up into my head. What else could I do to make this interaction more noteworthy to both him and me? "What's your name man?" "McBride." He had to repeat twice as I didn't quite understand the first time. "Alright McBride, my name's Mac. I work up the street right there," as I pointed to it, "I'll see you around man." He replied, "Alright, cool." With a small smile, but it was there.
I walked back towards Poor Calvin's pondering the events of what had just occurred. I had helped many people before but the demeanor of McBride and the fact that all he had to eat were half a bag of chips. It was different. Fully engrossed in the moment I felt the wind blow, the beautiful cirrocumulus clouds in the backdrop of the ocean blue sky. Saw a coupe coworkers leaving work and headed to their cars. We waved at each other. They seemed so happy when moments ago I had just met a person who was in such a completely different world of just living day-by-day. It was just surreal. I don't know. But I needed this stark realization of how real the world is and I hope I gave him an equal amount of faith in strangers. Things don't go as planned. Happiness is great but suffering is real. I didn't realize I lost my appreciation of everything I have for granted so much. I... don't know. The world is the greatest place and the worst at the same time.
I had ate at Panbury's Double Crust Pies for lunch and it was delicious. The crust was super flaky, creating that amazing texture of lightly crisping bread akin to a nice croissant. The steak inside was juicy and the mash potatoes and gravy wasn't too heavily seasoned which is pretty rare considering American's affinity for too salty or too savory.
But that's not the point of why I am blogging (on an afternoon for the first time) here. The reason is my continuous struggle with helping the needy. Do I do it because it's part of me, or because I want to impress others. It's strange and I always wonder whether it does more good to tell others about the kind actions I do compared to going the way of silent kindness. What's the best way to interact with the homeless? Too many times I feel like I'm getting sold bullshit stories about their lives, but who am I to judge? They've been through much more harsh times than I have.
I left Sweet Auburn Market after my lunch and headed towards my car on a nice sunny and breezy day to have a black lady standing behind a pillar ask me, "Excuse me, you have any change to spare for some food?" At first I just glanced and just moved on. A pang of regret course through my mind causing a tangible shame as I walked without a word to the person as towards my car. I wondered, "Do I go back and give her money? Maybe I could go inside and get her some food." I ended up hopping into my car and planned on just moving on, hoping a car in the lot would block my face hung low from her as I drove by. A car didn't block my view but a middle-aged white couple had ended up giving her something. Not sure what it was but the homeless lady was given, or gave, a hug to the white lady. Their love was genuine. You could just see it from the smiles. I felt terrible as I slowly rolled up to the gate. I wanted to help now. I didn't want the black lady to think that Asians are so apathetic. I hoped for a parking spot and found one. Walked back inside and grabbed some food to-go to hand to the lady. Didn't see her. Searched to no avail. She was gone. Thinking back on it, she probably used the money she got from white lady to buy food... I felt terrible. A conjunction of having spent the money to buy the food I could no longer gain appreciation from and for having given a bad impression from myself to black lady.
Sulked back into my car and punched my verified ticket to head to work. "Why couldn't I just acknowledge her as soon as she saw? Why did I just glance without a word and continue towards my car across the lot? Is it because I'm not an instinctively kind person? Is it because I'm actually only kind when I choose to be?" I always find myself (attempting to) calculate the ratio of good vibes and kindness vs. the monetary cost and amount of time I would have to sink into it. Factors including who would see me doing the act and how much the person might appreciate it. I probably just think too much about all my actions. Can't read-and-react as much as I do. I need to listen to my first instinct and actualize it. Should be another goal of mine.
Anyway, I parked my car at the mechanic's shop next to the restaurant and trekked towards the building. Steak meat pie and Orange Fanta in hand, I wondered what to do with it. I could give to to my coworkers, I could save it for later, or... OR I could give it to one of the homeless in the park across the street. There are always a few there just sitting on the steps or sleeping in the grass. I saw one of them on the drive to work on some steps facing the road. Decided towards the park. Saw a bigger black man sitting on the main stairs in a red jacket. He wasn't homeless. Seemed decently clean and had bags strewn about in front of him. A hallmark of the homeless.
Walked down to the guy I had seen earlier and gave him a tap on the shoulder. He was eating from a bag of chips in what I assume was just a snack but either way, his only form of nutrition/sustenance. His face looked younger than mine by a couple years. Raggedly clothes and gloves with holes in it. Patchwork beanie and old shoes. Probably the first time in weeks he's been able to enjoy the day without freezing temperatures. I hoped he at least slept in a shelter. He had a kind face but seemed defeated and had long lost the ability to produce a smile. "Can I give you some food?" "Yeah, sure," he said in a low voice. Dropped the box beside him. "Alright, so it's a chicken pot pie, but with STEAK! Here's a Fanta for you too. I was gonna give to to some other lady be she disappeared." "Thanks, man." "Yeah, no problem man." Gave him a pat on his shoulder and for a split second I turned to walk back to work. Then a thought popped up into my head. What else could I do to make this interaction more noteworthy to both him and me? "What's your name man?" "McBride." He had to repeat twice as I didn't quite understand the first time. "Alright McBride, my name's Mac. I work up the street right there," as I pointed to it, "I'll see you around man." He replied, "Alright, cool." With a small smile, but it was there.
I walked back towards Poor Calvin's pondering the events of what had just occurred. I had helped many people before but the demeanor of McBride and the fact that all he had to eat were half a bag of chips. It was different. Fully engrossed in the moment I felt the wind blow, the beautiful cirrocumulus clouds in the backdrop of the ocean blue sky. Saw a coupe coworkers leaving work and headed to their cars. We waved at each other. They seemed so happy when moments ago I had just met a person who was in such a completely different world of just living day-by-day. It was just surreal. I don't know. But I needed this stark realization of how real the world is and I hope I gave him an equal amount of faith in strangers. Things don't go as planned. Happiness is great but suffering is real. I didn't realize I lost my appreciation of everything I have for granted so much. I... don't know. The world is the greatest place and the worst at the same time.
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